He sings of suffering. His eyes hold the pain of living in sorrow.
The moment our gaze meets recognition flares within.
We are tortured souls drifting in a sea of darkness.
He knows I have secrets that I'll never tell.
I am numb
I am broken
I am dirty
I can never be the guiding light through the darkness he thinks I am.
I have forsaken my past, I rely on keeping myself shut off.
But he has secrets too, secrets that would destroy everything I have left.
I wish things were different, that maybe we could be each other's lifeline.
But destiny drags us down like an anchor.
The broken can only drift in the sea barely staying afloat.
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“Alright ye braw laddies 'n' lasses, shut yer traps,” the singer spoke into the mic. A small smile broke out at his demand for them to close their mouths. I hoped for his sake that they didn’t end up throwing their fish supper at him once he got started.
His fingers started strumming low notes on an old acoustic guitar. I checked over everyone at the bar and turned back to the singer. The way he started humming against the mic sent tingles into the pit of my stomach. His eyes were closed, but even from twenty feet away, I could tell he was very attractive. Long brown hair was pulled back and tied in a little bun on the top of his head. His beard was thick and surrounded his perfectly shaped mouth. Even with his beard you could see his strong, sharp jaw. I found myself leaning against the bar, waiting to hear his voice. Would it be rough and broken with his accent?
He kept his eyes closed as he started to sing, and my body trembled at his voice.
Satin lips taste of champagne
Her leather pants leave a stain upon her skin
A couple sniffs, the line disappears
She stays in my bed, wanting to be hidden, begging
His was voice was low and deep. It was smooth and reached down into your soul. You could feel him baring himself for all to hear. I looked around to see I wasn’t the only one enthralled. He had the whole room watching him. Hanging on for every morsel of word he would give us. When my gaze flicked back toward him, I was shocked to see honey-colored eyes staring back at me. Trapping me like quicksand, I couldn’t look away.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jessica Florence makes her home in Southwest Florida where she runs her own business, and of course writing! She one day after reading a book a day for a year just sat down and started writing, thus finding a new amazing hobby that she was looking for, for years, and that was also very therapeutic.
She spends her days reading, writing, watching TV, working, playing with her cute as hell baby, and black German Shepherd Rogue aka Rogue-i-bear, and of course tormenting her husband ;)
She also enjoys taking naps, bubble baths, eating pickles like candy, and having Harry Potter marathons.